


Sheep underneath

by Papaveri



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8738338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papaveri/pseuds/Papaveri
Summary: Olivia takes up the spear and Maribelle eases her into armor.





	

“Not that I do not appreciate your trust, my dear,” says Maribelle, and of course her voice is louder than the clack of armor. Olivia felt weird, carrying it as if it was just a bunch of shiny scrap metal instead of something that's supposed to save her life in battle, “but you should know I am not an expert in this.”

And, to be fair, Olivia has considered other people, but the names that came to her mind were immediately followed by the reasons why Maribelle would be a better option.

(Cordelia, but Cordelia is so tall and strong she would look down on her even if she didn't have any reason, her legs like a podium, her hair so red it makes Olivia dizzy, and she has a voice fit for a captain even though she's never had any military rank; so Maribelle, who speaks like a strict teacher, is better.

Sumia, and Sumia is so gentle and warm, dark and calming like sugared tea, a better, more cultured version of herself, Olivia thought, spear in hand, even while she watched her stumble down her pegasus, Sumia who is, in the end, so much like herself that it's discouraging; so Maribelle, who is all violent light, is better.

And Cherche, Cherche, the idea of Cherche's hands closing around her arms or her legs sent a kind of honeyed shiver down her spine; not that Maribelle is any better in that aspect, but at least she's more of a familiar terrain.)

“I… just thought you'd know?”

The skirt on the dress she's wearing as a pegasus knight is very short. Olivia thinks it's silly, that it worries her more than her dancer outfit, but she's constantly tugging at the hem of her clothes. It feels incomplete.

“And I know, of course,” says Maribelle. “I did not expect you to volunteer to be the extra air power our tactician thinks we need, however.”

She pushes a small stool towards her, and Olivia sits and knits her hands on her knees. It's as if Maribelle is going to cut her hair.

(She brushed it, the first time she spent the night with her, the following morning. Maribelle had an ugly bruise on her arm and a slash on her forehead that almost got down to her right eye, and Olivia had been trembling all day; she started when Maribelle rushed to the front lines and she didn't stop when the arrow brushed her golden curls like a snake and she didn't stop when Maribelle staggered and hit the Risen with both her hands on the handle of the staff and she didn't stop when the crystal that topped it shattered like the monster's masks and she didn't stop when Maribelle dismounted and ran towards me and said that she hoped that she'd forgive her, but she would absolutely regret it all her life, if she didn't kiss her.)

Maribelle makes her extend her arm and fastens the clasps on her vambraces; then, she asks her to move her fingers, to check if she's adjusted her gauntlets properly. She tells her that she should remember the small things, as they can mean life or death in the battlefield, and just how undignified would a knight look, with a piece of her armor flapping against her?

Her fingers brush the inside of Olivia's upper arm when she makes her lift it to see if she can move it freely.

“You're very good at this,” says Olivia, while she's working on the gorget.

(She wishes Maribelle would make sure that she keeps her neck perfectly straight. With her thumb on the soft ridge of her spine, her index under her chin, the rest of her fingers on her throat like a choker.)

“I am the only daughter of House Themis.” There is a short pause after these words, almost as if they had their own weight. Olivia holds her breath and Maribelle starts talking again; the fastener on her gorget clacks. “I have to know how to put a suit of armor on.”

Olivia

(who is Feroxian and has seen people fight as much as she's seen people cheer on her dancing)

feels a weird pang of shame and frustration at those words, and pulls the other gauntlet over her gloves. She has to do it with her non-dominant hand, but the metal slides with ease, almost like a second skin.

When Olivia rises from the stool, the weight of the armor shifts from her hips to her legs, and her knees wobble a bit. She regains composure fast, though, like she balances on her tiptoes on the hardest dance steps. She turns to face Maribelle.

(Maribelle is shorter than her. She realized this when she first met her, but it's still kind of surprising. Maribelle is shorter than her! And has smaller hands but stronger arms that could drive a spear through a monster, through a soldier, with no hesitation.

Maribelle who fastens her armor and kisses her for luck.)

“I'm going to fly on a pegasus for the first time today,” she says. “Um… Please come cheer for me?”

And Maribelle kisses the back of her hand and patches her up when she falls off her mount.

 

“I think… I think I can put it on myself, next time,” says Olivia, sitting at the edge of the bed they share.

“Well,” Maribelle turns under the thin covers and her hair flashes with the candlelight, “I would be happy if you let me take it off, though.”

Her laughter is golden too.

**Author's Note:**

> I... think this is mostly a writing excercise! It was very, very spur of the moment, but at least it was something I can post. My writing excercises tend to be very bad and short so I'm glad I'm getting better at them.
> 
> A friend of mine was talking about a completely unrelated ship on Twitter, but she was discussing this whole thing of helping someone put on armor. It's something I've been meaning to write for a while and I hadn't published any Maribelle/Olivia, so...
> 
> As always, I hope you like it! Thanks for reading!


End file.
